


in my hands, i hold your world

by Set_Suna



Series: The sins of the ancient burn the souls of the ancestors - MCYT Royalty AU [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Burns, Derealization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Half enderman Ranboo, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Minor Injuries, No Beta We Die Like Wilbur in Skyblockle, Panic Attacks, Platonic Affection, Royalty AU, Self-Worth Issues, he also hears voices :), lets start with the classic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29593893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Set_Suna/pseuds/Set_Suna
Summary: It would be so easy,hissed the voice in his head,to end his life. To run a blade through his back. One day, it will happen. Old king Philza will die.He gritted his teeth, desperately willing the voice toshut upand swinging forward. It was a sloppy attempt, one Phil blocked and pushed away with ease. His wings flared slightly, and Ranboo gripped his sword tighter.“Strike with purpose,” Phil told him, readying for Ranboo’s next advance. “Know where you want to hit before you make your move. Just swinging for the heck of it will get you nowhere. Look for your enemy’s openings and weak points, and you’ll know what to go for.”Ranboo took a breath and nodded. Phil always seemed so relaxed. Even now, standing across from him, his sword was held out to his side, not defensively in front of hin. He’d react quick enough without having to stay on his toes. Ranboo had a lot of work to do. He squinted, decided where to strike, and charged.
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: The sins of the ancient burn the souls of the ancestors - MCYT Royalty AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2174196
Comments: 15
Kudos: 337





	in my hands, i hold your world

**Author's Note:**

> ooo baby I've been thinking on this au in the background for a while now and I finally wrote something for it. it makes no sense story-wise to post this first, but it's the one I have done so I'm posting it. Here's Ranboo our beloved I am so proud of him

Ranboo knew it was going to be a bad day as soon as he woke up. His eyes snapped open. He shot up, thrashing out of the sheets tangled around his limbs. He could barely breathe, his heart was pounding in his chest, and his skin was sticky with sweat. Another nightmare. They were all abstract and horrifying and it was rare Ranboo could pull any meaning from them. He curled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins. He sat there, face hidden, doing breathing exercises Phil taught him until he was calm. 

Thanks to that recurring episode, he was late to his training session. Phil was never mean to him about it, and he almost seemed to go even easier on him once he told him the reason why. Ranboo appreciated it, but was frustrated by it at the same time. He knew Phil just cared for his well-being, but it made the whole apprenticeship thing seem less serious. If he really was going to get a grip on his emerging traits and learn how to live with them, he’d have to start working a lot harder. 

Today, that had proved to be a challenge. Sparring with Phil was not easy. The man had decades of experience over him, and Ranboo ended up disarmed or at the tip of his blade after each round. Luckily, Phil was merciful, and they were using training weapons, so Ranboo never sustained any actual damage. Still, growing up alone on the streets left one’s wits sharp, so he was able to hold his own at least for a little while. This morning, sword gripped tightly in hand, Ranboo’s mind was maybe the most unfocused it’d ever been. He was able to track Phil’s movements, aware enough that he could still get hurt with a wooden sword. He brought his sword up to block and parry, but each attempt to push forward heavily missed their mark. And he knew exactly what to blame it on. 

_It would be so easy,_ hissed the voice in his head, _to end his life. To run a blade through his back. One day, it will happen. Old king Philza will die._

He gritted his teeth, desperately willing the voice to _shut up_ and swinging forward. It was a sloppy attempt, one Phil blocked and pushed away with ease. His wings flared slightly, and Ranboo gripped his sword tighter. 

“Strike with purpose,” Phil told him, readying for Ranboo’s next advance. “Know where you want to hit before you make your move. Just swinging for the heck of it will get you nowhere. Look for your enemy’s openings and weak points, and you’ll know what to go for.” 

Ranboo took a breath and nodded. Phil always seemed so relaxed. Even now, standing across from him, his sword was held out to his side, not defensively in front of hin. He’d react quick enough without having to stay on his toes. Ranboo had a lot of work to do. He squinted, decided where to strike, and charged. 

_You know the other side of you exists, do not act like it is out of your hands,_ the voice whispered. _Philza is destined to die. And it will be at your hands. To the very blades he forged for you._

He stabbed forward, slicing air as Phil sidestepped him. He groaned frustratedly, spinning around and slashing at Phil’s side. The two wooden swords collided, causing a dull thud to rattle his bones. The voice couldn’t be right. None of what it said to him could be true. Maybe Phil was _destined to die,_ but it couldn’t be because of him. That would never be true. He-He would never do such a thing. It wasn’t who he was. 

_Yes, it is,_ the voice insisted. _Besides, it was you who put the young prince in such danger, after all._

A flash of anger overwhelmed his senses. He raised his sword above his head, bringing it down _hard._ Phil jumped back, and Ranboo’s sword splintered against the pavestones. He… had never done that before. He suddenly noticed how his knees were quaking, how his hands were trembling against his sword hilt. Why was this happening _now?_

_Your power is greater than you think. Do not be afraid. Remember. Let it flow. Become who you were meant to be._

“Shut up,” he mumbled, clamping his eyes shut as his knees hit the ground. 

_You wish to grow stronger? Then listen. Let me guide you. Blood is meant to be drawn by your blade. Kings are meant to be your pawns. Your rise to greatness will come, and kingdoms will fall._

“That’s not what I _want,”_ he said shakily.

_Learn. Grow. Power. Destroy. Blood for the prince._

The voice began to overlap with itself. It created a splitting cacophony in his head, loud and painful enough to make his ears ring. He hung his head between his arms, each breath becoming more and more difficult to take. He _didn’t_ make that hole in the castle wall. He _wouldn’t_ put anyone in that dangerous of a situation. He would _never_ raise his sword at Phil. So why? Why did the voice in his head demand he spill his blood so rigorously? 

He pleaded with nothing, “Please, just be quiet…!” 

His head felt like it could explode. He pried his fingers from his sword, twisting them in his hair instead. He tugged, hoping it would do anything to stop the discordant symphony playing in his mind. The orchestra had one goal: to drive him absolutely mad. 

Something gently touched his hand and he recoiled. He was already overwhelmed with sound, the thought of something touching him made him want to vomit. His skin felt hot and tingly, and he was hypersensitive enough to feel someone else beside him. Someone else. One thought of his own burst through the noise: _you’re not alone._ He opened his eyes to see the world was blurry, blobs of color melding together to make what was vaguely the castle’s training pavilion. He glanced upward, feeling the cool air of relief as he saw the shape of Phil worriedly hovering over him. 

“Phil-” he choked out. 

“I know, Ranboo. It’s going to be okay. I’m right here with you,” Phil said, his calming tone finally reaching his ears. Fingers forced their way into his, and he let them this time. Phil’s voice sounded distant over the jarring melody in his head, “Try to breathe, alright? Focus on that. We’re gonna get through this.” 

Ranboo closed his eyes again, squeezing Phil’s hands and nodding shortly. It was so loud. The voice was _so loud_ he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts. He forced his body to work, to not go catatonic and give in to the noise. His breaths were stuttering and uneven, but they were his own. 

He hated it. He hated the voice in his head. He hated how it always said he was destined for glory through bloodshed and battle. It always told him to remember and to meet his destiny, but if that was what he was meant to be, he never wanted to remember. He was fine just being Ranboo, peasant kid with a messed up past, present, and future. 

The voices increased their volume, desperate to be heard as he desperately tried to tune them out. He couldn’t hear Phil anymore. His breathing had regressed. It all _hurt._ It hurt like he’d been tossed in the ocean, left to fight with and succumb to the waves. Tears stung his cheeks as they pushed from his eyes. He let out a sob, curling in on himself and shoving his face in his arms. He felt Phil’s hands squeeze his, he could tell he was trying to tell him something, but Ranboo couldn’t understand. 

“They’re so _loud,”_ he cried miserably. “I-It _hurts.”_

He drove his nails into Phil’s hands, gripping with a strength he didn’t know he had. He needed to breathe. He needed to calm down and focus. He knew that. When you knew you had to do something, it should become easier to do it, right?

Ranboo hadn’t had very many experiences with the voice in his head. Out of those times, only a handful had ever gotten this bad. The first time it had happened, he was out shopping with Niki, and he’d collapsed in the middle of the street. The second time, he was spending time with Tommy and Tubbo, and they had enough knowledge to get someone who could help. Then, they were able to ease him out of it. Phil and Techno always helped him manage it since then. This time, Ranboo wasn’t sure if he was going to make it. 

“-nboo. _Ranboo,_ you gotta listen to me, kid,” a new voice broke through the barrier. “Can you hear me, Ranboo?”

He gasped, relieved, and nodded. Techno’s gruff voice was so welcomingly familiar. He was always patient. He was careful and practical and always so good at grounding him. It had never been this bad, and Ranboo was _so_ glad he was here. 

“Okay, Ranboo, stay with me through this,” Techno told him. He felt his hands force themselves between his and Phil’s, prying them apart and taking them in his own. He opened his by just a sliver to watch as Techno pressed one of Ranboo’s palms flat against his chest. He could feel the man’s heartbeat, he could feel the steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling with each breath. “You’re gonna be alright, got it?”

He nodded again, managing to respond, “G-Got it.”

This was familiar. This was the process. He sucked in a breath, exhaling at the same time as Techno. 

“Good,” Techno encouraged simply. “Alright, answer me, kid, what’s your name?”

“Ranboo.”

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

He would run through the series of questions, all about basic information. He’d recount who he was, what he was doing here, and what he remembered. They reset his mind. They got him out of his state of panic and made him remember that he was the one in control. The voice that spoke to him had no sway over what he did. He chose what he did with his body. No one else could do that. 

“Where do you live?”

“In a-a bakery… and a--flower shop.”

“What’s your sister’s name?”

“Niki.”

He continued to answer Techno’s questions. His breathing began to even out, to match Techno’s for each steady inhale and exhale. He could feel Phil beside him, how a wing had wrapped around his shoulders. The overlapping voices started to quiet, leaving him feeling lightheaded. He teetered to the side, leaning against Phil’s shoulder. 

“What do you hear?” Techno asked finally, thumb rubbing circles in his palm. 

Ranboo closed his eyes, listened… And the voice was quiet. It had been replaced by what he should’ve been hearing all along. “You… the wind, the birds… my thoughts. Me.”

Techno lifted his hand from his chest, squeezing it gently. He asked, “All good?”

Ranboo nodded. He answered quietly, “All good.”

He was… really tired. Fighting a mental battle with the voice in your head tended to do that to you. He winced as he slowly opened his eyes. His skin still burned from where his tears had carved a trail down his cheeks. The buildup at the corner of his eyes stung the most. It always did. Phil raised a hand and brushed the hair from his eyes, a smile warm on his face.

“You did good, mate,” he soothed. “Real good.”

Ranboo looked to Techno when he heard the man exhale. He shook his head slightly and looked up.

“C’mon, we should fix up your face,” he grumbled, relaxed in a way most people weren’t when grumbling. “Think you can walk?”

Though he insisted on trying, the answer to that question was no. He almost instantly collapsed into Techno, embarrassingly. Phil laughed at their awkwardness, smoothing things over right away. He ended up on Techno’s back, being carried through the halls of the castle. Somehow, he was comfortable, head resting against the back of Techno’s shoulder. It was hard to fight sleep after what he’d just been through. Slipping in and out of consciousness, Ranboo managed to hear a conversation he didn’t think he’d remember.

“It’s never been that bad, has it?” Techno asked tentatively.

“No, it hasn’t,” Phil answered quietly. “I can’t say I’m not worried about what this means, but it’s not as if we know what it means that he hears voices in the first place. His entire past is a mystery before he started living with Niki.”

Techno huffed, sounding frustrated. “And there’s nothing we can do.”

Phil hummed. He sounded smug when he prodded, “You’re worried for him, aren’t you?”

“What if I am?”

“Then nothing. I’m glad. I think he’d really appreciate it if you told him, or showed him in some way.”

“Tommy says I’m horrible at hiding this stuff.”

“Well… Ranboo can be a bit oblivious.”

-

The next time he was fully conscious, Phil was gently shaking his shoulder. They’d taken him to the medical ward, where he was currently laying on a bed curled on his side. He slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes before remembering the burns there and flinching as he irritated his skin. He hissed as he pulled his hand away, earning a sympathetic look from Phil. It was then Techno walked over from one of the cabinets, holding a small glass jar filled with a transparent blue gel. He sat beside Ranboo, popping the cork from the top. 

“This should help with the burns and make ‘em heal over well,” Techno told him, scooping a bit out with his fingers.

Ranboo nodded, bracing himself for the sting that usually followed when using burn cream on his skin, but when Techno spread the gel across his cheek, it was cool. He exhaled, relishing in the relief it brought. He squinted as Techno’s fingers got closer to his eye, making Phil chuckle. 

“It’d help if you kept your eyes open,” he teased lightly. 

“Oh, sorry,” Ranboo muttered, doing his best not to flinch. 

Sometimes, Ranboo couldn’t help but wonder how he ended up here. Some of his closest friends were literally royalty. He was apprenticing under a former king. A current king had just talked the voices out of his head and was spreading burn-healing gel on his face. For a kid who’d only known poverty for so long, it still felt like a dream. He knew it was real, what he’d been through was just strange enough to be real, but it was unbelievable. He was… really grateful for all they’d done for him. 

He released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding once Techno had finished. He corked the gel and stood to return it to its place, moving to wash his hands once it was back on the shelf. Phil sat on his other side, then, and Ranboo couldn’t help but feel a sudden dread. This had the same feeling as when Niki sat him down to scold him. He opened his mouth to ask if he’d done something wrong, but was stopped before he got the chance when Phil placed a hand on the side of his shoulder and squeezed. 

“You’re not in trouble or anything,” Phil assured him, a knowing smile on his face, “we’re just worried about you. This was a lot worse than anything before, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ranboo answered quietly, staring dejectedly at his hands. “I-I don’t know why it was, it just… felt like it was trying harder to break me.”

“They do that sometimes,” Techno explained shortly, shaking water from his hands, “when they feel like they can get what they want easier. When you’re vulnerable.”

“Oh,” Ranboo mumbled. That wasn’t good. He thought he was ready to forget the wall incident completely. According to his subconscious, apparently not, because the voice had caught him off guard with that one. 

“Is something on your mind, Ranboo? Anything at all?” Phil questioned him gently. 

He cared. It was so obvious he did, but it was the same reason Ranboo didn’t want to open his mouth and spill everything. The two men in front of him had the largest amount of power in the whole empire. They had the duty and the mindset to keep their nation and its people safe. The attack on the castle had been on their own family--on _Tommy,_ Techno’s brother, Phil’s son, the literal heir to the throne--how was he supposed to just tell them what was on his mind?

He swallowed, voice shaking when he spoke, “It’s-um-It’s not… good.”

His eyes were on his hands. If he had to make eye contact with either of them right now, he didn’t think he’d be able to say anything at all. He saw Techno’s cape flash at the edge of his vision. Phil placed a hand over his, and Ranboo grimaced. A wave of guilt crashed over him, making him feel slightly nauseous. 

“It’s alright, mate-” Phil began before Ranboo stopped him.

“No, no it’s really not,” he interjected anxiously. “It’s really bad, actually.”

The silence was palpable. It was tense, like they all feared whatever was going to happen next. Ranboo wasn’t sure he was breathing. He just stared at the hand laying over his, like it was protecting it from the rest of the world.

“Can you explain it to us, then?” Phil asked, never pushing, never prying too far. “Help us understand so we can help you.”

Ranboo exhaled, shutting his eyes and trying to calm himself down. If keeping this to himself was going to make the voice in his head return more and more often, he thought it might be worth the risk. And… this was Phil and Techno. They wouldn’t just turn on him like that. He did his best to ignore the whisper of _would they?_ in the back of his mind. 

“You-You know how I… sleepwalk, and stuff, right?” he started, mouth feeling drier than he could ever remember it being. “A-uh-while ago it happened, and I woke up at-at the end of a dock in the harbor. And for some reason, I had a-a picaxe. A really, really busted up picaxe. I had no idea what was going on and I was just-scared, and-and I dropped it and now it’s somewhere in the ocean because, y’know, I couldn’t go _get it,_ so I just… went home. Niki was really scared and worried because that was-uh-that was the night someone broke into the castle.”

The pause after that spoke for itself. Everyone was connecting the dots. 

“And-And my hands were dirty, and so were my clothes, and a _hole_ was made in the castle wall and-” Ranboo rambled faster, reaching to tug at his hair, “-and I think it was _me._ I think _I_ did it. It-It makes sense. I have no idea what I do when I sleepwalk, I’ve never managed to remember, and-and it’s what the voice told me, so-so I don’t know, it’s probably true. I probably made that hole. I’m probably the reason Tommy almost died that night.” 

His voice broke, and that seemed to snap something that had frozen the room. Phil snaked his hands into his, stopping him from pulling all his hair out in one day. He felt his eyes watering, saw his vision getting blurry.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t, I would never do something like that, I promise,” he pleaded desperately, tightening his grip on Phil’s hands and pulling his knees to his chest. He was panicking, and he knew it wouldn’t do him any good--he just really didn’t want to ruin everything. “I just--lose control and I don’t know how to stop it. It’s-It’s like there’s an entire other side of me that I don’t even know and-and it’s _terrifying.”_

He yelped, feeling a tear escape down his cheek. Breathing was getting hard again. Half of him wanted to curl up in a ball and hope he disappeared while the other wanted to run from the room and just get lost. Techno sat beside him again. He felt it as he took his face in his hands, felt it as his thumbs carefully wiped away the tears building at the corners of his eyes. 

“Take a breath, Ranboo,” he said firmly. “You’re fine. Don’t hurt yourself even more.”

He forced himself to suck in a breath. It felt like his life was falling apart before his very eyes, but at least he was breathing. He’d be alive to suffer the consequences. 

“I need you to listen to me, Ranboo, and I need you to trust in what I say,” Phil told him, tone serious and certain. “I know that you would never do something like that, never of your own free will. I have no reason to believe that it was really you who did this.”

“But I-I had the pic in my hands, Phil, it was _real,”_ he hiccupped, slipping his hands free and pushing them into his eyes, willing the pressure there to go away. “What else could it possibly be?”

“Remember who's in control here, kid. It's you,” Techno stated, hands moved to his shoulders. “Not the voice, not this other side of you, just you.” 

“It’s still me, isn’t it? I’m still the one doing it, even if I don’t remember it,” Ranboo argued, for what, he had no idea. “It always tells me to remember. I know I’m forgetting something important but-but I don’t wanna remember if I’m just the monster the voice tells me I am-”

He choked out a sob, crossing his arms in front of his face in a mix of embarrassment and shame. He closed his eyes tight, dreading to see the looks on Phil and Techno’s faces. He knew he didn’t deserve to be here, to be cared for like this. There was a reason he’d grown up picking scraps out of alleyways and hiding in shadows and around corners. He hadn’t even known this part of him existed then, this part of him that longed to hurt the people he loved. He didn’t want to lose all these things he suddenly had, but some part of him was trying to destroy them. 

He didn’t realize he’d moved, at first. He was too overwhelmed and lost in his own head to recognize it. He only noticed it when he heard someone else’s heartbeat in his ear. The crisp fabric of Techno’s shirt pressed against his cheek. Techno was hugging him. It… It was really nice. He pushed himself further into the man’s chest, wiping the tears from his eyes before they could burn his skin. He didn’t get it. He couldn’t understand why he was being comforted by them when they should have been angry, or just upset at all. 

“You are not a monster, Ranboo,” Phil’s voice whispered, sounding heartbroken three times over. “You’re struggling with things out of your control and it’s causing you pain. That does not make you a monster. You fight this with all your might and that shows me all I need to know about you. You are a good person. What happened with the castle wall was not your fault. Whatever happens when you sleepwalk is not who you are. You are so much more than your flaws.”

“You should stop listening to what that dumb voice of yours tells you,” Techno mumbled, and Ranboo could feel it rumble in his chest. “Seems like a dick. At least mine are actually helpful sometimes.”

A surprised laugh tangled with a sob the next time he opened his mouth. He made sure all his tears were soaked into his sleeves before he looked up, glancing between Techno and Phil. He couldn’t read anything in their expressions except concern. 

“You’re not mad?” he asked pathetically. 

Phil smiled, running a hand through Ranboo’s hair and insisting softly, “Not at all. We have no real proof what happened at the wall was even you. I’m not trusting whatever’s taken up residence in your head. Even if there was some sort of sign you did do it, I wouldn’t be mad. You can’t control what you do in that state, and I know you, Ranboo. You would never do something that could put others in danger.”

“If anything, that just makes this all the more serious,” Techno admitted, his grip on Ranboo tightening the slightest bit. “My voices are payment. We don’t know what yours are, or what this sleepwalk thing means.”

“That’s why I want to teach you, Ranboo, to help you through this,” Phil explained with a gentleness and warmth that rivaled Niki’s on his worst days. “We’re going to figure out how to get this under control, I promise. We’re gonna figure out how to make you the best you you can possibly be.”

“We’re not giving up on you, kid,” Techno promised.

Ranboo nodded, breathing out a hoarse, “Okay.” He didn’t have the words to show how relieved he was. He was _so_ glad Phil understood. Knowing Techno felt the same was more relieving than the gel rubbed into his cheeks. He settled for pressing himself closer to Techno and tightening his grip on his shirt. Considering he felt a chin rest on top of his head, he thought his message was received. 

Phil combed his fingers through his hair again and suggested, “Why don’t you get some sleep? We can pick up again with something else later, if you’re feeling up to it.”

He really didn’t feel like talking, so he hummed and nodded in response. His exhaustion was catching up to him again, and against all odds, he felt safe. His eyes were already closed, all he had to do was let sleep take him.

-

“There’s no way I’m moving,” Techno stated simply, staring up at Phil as he stood from the bed. “I cannot do that in good conscience.” 

Phil chuckled, tilting his head as he took in his two boys. He was pretty sure he understood exactly what was happening here. Techno saw himself in the kid cradled in his arms. Phil couldn’t blame him, he saw it too. They both wanted the same thing: for Ranboo to learn how to live his own life despite the voices, not suffer along with them. 

“Don’t you have duties to attend to, Mr. King of the Empire?” Phil joked. 

“The only thing I had to deal with this afternoon was Jack Manifold, and I despise talking with him in the first place,” Techno replied dryly. “He’s just bringing back a report on movements in the SMP. Can’t you handle that?”

A smile crept it’s way onto his face. Ranboo was, quite literally, snuggled against Techno’s chest. He knew Techno was worried about his apprentice, and would probably pay less attention to Jack than he usually would because of it. So, he sighed, and he relented. 

“Yes, I can handle that,” he conceded, stepping away towards the door. “But I’ll be back as soon as we’re done, then you have to take care of your own responsibilities from there on.”

“Yeah, yeah, get a move on, old man. It’ll take you half an hour to get there at your speed.”

“Watch it, there. You may be king, but I’m still your father.”

Techno huffed a laugh and waved him off. Phil shook his head and closed the door behind him as quietly as possible, watching as Techno arranged himself and Ranboo more comfortably. Phil stepped away from the medical ward with two things: a new sense of urgency, and a mental note to retrieve Ranboo’s swords from the training pavilion. Niki came to him and asked him to help Ranboo with a level of worry he wasn’t sure he understood until now. From this point on, he would do everything in his power to find the truth of this situation. No kid like Ranboo should have to carry this level of stress and misplaced guilt. And he’d make sure he knew it.

**Author's Note:**

> uhh I hope you guys liked it?? please let me know if it's interesting or if you have questions or thoughts or anything I'll do my best to answer!! 
> 
> Edit: shhh don't worry about the beginning note I reordered the series yes this was posted first but its fiiinnee
> 
> I appreciate any and all comments/kudos/bookmarks you choose to leave! 
> 
> You can follow my [tumblr](https://quibbels.tumblr.com/) for fic updates and my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/quiblii) to see more stuff from me!


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